


Short and (Sort of) Sweet

by buckytheplumsoldier



Series: ThorBruce Week 2018 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Grumpy Bruce, Height difference, M/M, Smol Angry Boi, ThorBruce Week 2018, ThunderScience - Freeform, a bit of angst, short bruce, thorbruce, yeah this is bad whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 21:41:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15542730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckytheplumsoldier/pseuds/buckytheplumsoldier
Summary: No. This was the epitome of stupidity.





	Short and (Sort of) Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Day 2! So, me being me, I wrote these out of order and this happened to be the first prompt that I completed. Does that mean I'm happy with it? Nope! Does that mean that this is any good and actually follows the characters and their behaviors? Nope! Did I try to rewrite it at least twice? Yup! 
> 
> So here's a grumpy and insecure Bruce because I have to have angst in literally everything I write.

It was times like this when Bruce wondered how the entirety of the world assumed that he was some scientific genius with a mind to match that of a god. It was times like this he wondered if all the sleep lost to long nights in lab after lab even meant anything in the long run. It was times like this when he wondered if his seven PhD's were even worth the stress he endured. All for what? Bragging rights to a god who didn't know any better?

No. This was the epitome of stupidity.

He tried searching through the jumbles of facts and memories for why he decided placing his box of very important formulas up on the highest shelf was ever a decent idea. A shelf that he, in fact, could not reach with his shorter than average arms, even with the usage of his office chair. In what situation did he even think that purchasing such a tall bookcase would never come to bite him in the ass someday in the future?

All he could do was gaze helplessly upwards at the box, taunting him with its wooden gloss and metal hinges. The one thing he needed desperately was tucked away out of reach. His mind was beginning to play tricks on him, his yearn making the box seem so tantalizingly close but yards away in hindsight. 

The miniscule amount of dignity he had prior to this vanished right before his eyes, as if his self esteem couldn't be any more damaged. 

Out of the corner of his eye, Thor emerged meekly from behind the door, expression telling and cautious. 

Bruce muttered a quick "Fuck" under his breath before plastering on his usual smile (if you could call it that) and regained his posture. 

"Everything alright?" Thor stepped into the room, studying the bits and pieces of papers and folders scattered throughout. Several books were laid out open to various places, telling a story of chemicals, quarks, and laws of the universe. 

Bruce could only think of an endless horizon of dependency jokes and short jokes that would be set upon him if he were to tell the truth. Thor would know, most likely remarking about it to the rest of the Avengers (seeing as he held no true brain-to-mouth filter) and Tony would never let him see the end of this. Bruce needing his god in shining armor to fetch a couple of equations that he was too short to get. It made his own blood boil with embarrassment. 

But, God, he needed those damn formulas. They were going to be the key to linking the broken bridges of his mind, lost definitions needing the empty spaces filled in. 

"No," he admitted, gesturing upwards with his head to the box casting imaginary looming shadows over his short figure. 

Thor's lip curled into a sort of half smile. "You," he pointed at Bruce, "can't reach that?" 

"It's bad enough already. I've been trying for a good half hour here." Bruce furrowed his brows together, defensive nature laced in his whiny tone. The last thing he wanted was to feel like a tiny child, though he supposed that's what Thor perceived him as anyways.

"You could have just called." Thor stood in front of the bookcase, tall silhouette complete shrouding Bruce's own, much to his own subconscious internal jealousy. He reached upwards, long and muscular arms pulling the rim of the box to the edge as if he were pulling a feather. Thor took the box in his hands, bringing it and its contents down to chest-level.

Bruce snatched the box a little too harshly and brought it over to rest it on his desk. Obviously, he definitely didn't mean it, but the insignificant and microscopic part of his conscience which seemed to control every part of his motive screamed "Be petty." It was the same nagging part of his mind that ordered him around like a puppeteer - "Go here. Stay awake. Start shaking. Reconsider every action you've ever done in your life and how it's fucked absolutely everything over."

Bruce could feel the tension behind him, hair rising at the nape of his neck. He really did hope deep down inside that Thor would leave, that he wouldn't bother to stay and try and fix some broken mind puzzle. Even this game of sorts was too complex for gods to understand. 

"Banner - "

"You can go." He bit his cheek, the harsh words coming out before he had the chance to stop the floodgates. He should stop, he told the nagging part of his brain. He could feel something coursing through his veins, something potent with jealousy and hatred - 

For himself. 

He could hear Thor splutter, almost as if he were at a loss for words. It felt like a greater emphasis on a thing that didn't even matter in the first place, but Bruce was too into his own head to acknowledge it. "Why would I leave?"

Bruce whipped around, hearing the faint crack and spark of pain at the back of his neck. It added on to his heaping migraine, his head a blabbering and messy catastrophe just waiting to boil over and erupt. Arms reached behind him, gripping the edge of the desk in an attempt to restrict whatever beast was threatening to crawl outside of him. 

"Because I'm incapable of a lot of things, Thor." 

Silence.

If there was any other sentence Bruce could have said, he would have taken it back in a heartbeat. He didn't just open the floodgates. He opened a waterfall's worth of closed off spaces no one ever really got to see. 

In hindsight, he's about average. Average height, average body, average face. Yet compared to everyone else who seemed to excel in the standards of "average", it meant nothing. His brain meant nothing if he couldn't use it and build with it. His physique meant nothing if he couldn't fight without relying on another aspect of him that he despised. Hell, he couldn't even rely on his body without it making him feel like a toddler. 

The whole situation was childish, no doubt about it, but something about its innocent nature made Bruce infatuated with it. It was a concept people outgrew and left behind. But him? He could never. It's become too attached to him now, where any single comment is enough to make him crawl into the gaping hole in his heart and never leave. He's hidden it for a while, but it all comes down to a point where you've gotta break out into your ugly green friend to lessen everything around you.

Right?

This was the tipping point where every doubt he cast aside resurfaced. Why him? Why would this absolutely beautiful and literal incarnation of a god choose someone with so many flaws and so little respect for his own self over any other deity of his kind. Thor could toss him aside like a rag doll for someone else in a heartbeat and, as much as Bruce hated to admit it, it was absolutely what he would expect. He's been on his own for a while now, gotten used to it in fact. So why should that change now? 

Thor stepped forward, heels of his boots meeting the slick floorboard. "Incapable? Surely you can't think - "

Bruce reached out, holding Thor away from him with a steady grip on the other's shoulders. "Just forget I said anything. I could've used a ladder or something," he muttered under his breath.

The brunette glanced down, an almost sly smile etching itself its own place on his face. "That is what I admire about you."

"What?" Bruce tilted his head. Admired? Just the word itself was enough to set all of his demons at bay, holding steady and waiting patiently for whatever praise came next. That's all he could have ever wanted.

Eyes darted to meet Bruce's, the light from the window behind them reflecting in an oceanic-like view. "Your will to improvise. Your clever tactics. Your way to devise and overcome."

Bruce let his arms fall to his sides, hanging uselessly against his sides, beckoning some form of contact to ensue. "It's really not that special of a - "

"That is where I stop you." Thor leaned forward, pressing a quick kiss to Bruce's forehead. Immediately, a wave of warmth and heat rushed all over the cold and hollow space that was his body. It drowned out that portion of his brain, the part he wished he didn't have. He nestled into it a little, leaning into the touch and feeling weightless for just a second before it was over. 

Although Bruce's forehead just barely reached Thor's collarbone, what would have been the usual flush of humiliation spread across his face was not there. He didn't mind resting his head on a strong build. He didn't mind being held close, pulled tightly against a warm source of heat. To hear Thor's heart beat gradually speed up, to close his eyes and imagine himself anywhere else besides a study in a hectic New York background. He didn't mind it when the Other Guy was finally quiet. 

They reluctantly broke apart, Bruce sighing into the air between them.

"Are you gonna leave soon?" His heart begged otherwise. 

"Coffee?" 

Bruce let his worries fall away with a smile. "I'll be down in five."


End file.
